Victim of a John DoeDo you want to hear the story
of how I died?
I promise it won't be boring
so if you would
just take a seat, have a drink
Past memories reach,
I met the most amazing man
who spun words of silver and gold
with a tongue more fine than silk.
He told me he could do no wrong
and I, young and foolish, believed him.
And when we went home,
his eyes shining with new excitement,
things were perfect.
Then it shattered.
Nothing more intense
than feeling my own blood
trickle down my body.
stares traveling down
blood spattered knife
a gaping wound
cries of shock
gleaming white smile
solid drops of blood
and fading light.
I knew him for one night
he disappeared the next.
To this day I am simply known
as the victim of a John Doe.
The climbHe tied his boat among the rocks, and soon began to climb. Slowly, every so slowly, he went foot by foot, climbing away from shore and onto what should be called land, but really was nothing more than rocks.The climb2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When he tried to look above there was no grass of green. More and more rocks awaited our man, and still he climbed. The sun beat down, and clouds covered the top so our poor man could not see his destination, but still he climbed.
'It appears as though God has taken a day off today,' he thought to himself. And still he climbed up and up, even though the rocks were always coming.
When the stones cut into his palms, and the toes of his shoes wore down till his toes peeked out, and when the sun burned what skin it could, and when the wind cut through his clothes and chilled his bones, he still kept moving forwards. He couldn't see the sea below him, and there was nothing in front of him but clouds.
And still our poor man climbed, and climbed, and climbed.
To reach the top and say that
Paper ButterfliesA cut, a tear, a fold,Paper Butterflies2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
slice of color and a cut or two,
and another paper butterfly is born.
IV drips in the hand
keeping everything in place
while the cuts and tears and folds
keeps going on.
One thousand, six hundred and sixty six.
That's the number
she was told to make.
One thousand, six hundred and sixty six.
Until she can get a wish.
A nice nurse had told her so,
and shown her how to make them
but she had only made thirty out of the
one thousand, six hundred and sixty six
It seemed like such an impossible number
that one thousand six hundred and sixty six
but our patient needed that wish
just like everyone else,
in that hospital that our patient was at.
Her wish though
was not what someone expects
from our patient who will not last much longer.
is for her family to be happy when she's gone
and that they won't miss her to much
and that they will find someone else
after she has gone.
isn't to stay
and to get better
because she knows
that it won'
This is a poemThis is a poem.This is a poem2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's full of lines,
and goes with a meter,
rhyming of words of course
and contains more than you think.
So much thought
is going into this poem
to many words
and so many emotions
that it's almost hard
for the poet
to capture it in a few words.
This poem has a deep meaning
that you will feel is just out of your grip
and it shall be misheard and misread in its time.
For now though,
this is just a poem
that is full of rhythm
and words too big to pronounce.
This is a poem,
full of words
This poem is just words on a paper
that are meant to make you think.
Can you feel the love,
or the hate, or even the fear,
in this poem?
This is a poem,
with a simple repeating line
that is just meant
to make you think.
Through a gap in the fenceThrough a gap in the fenceThrough a gap in the fence2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
they saw each other.
Drawings on the walls
for messages of love.
Images don't matter anymore
as words are the only thing
that can travel
through that gap in the fence.
Whispers of love
and no one else cares.
Still they have not seen each other
through the small gap in the fence,
But of course
all good things must end.
The gap was closed
and their love was lost.
As time erases
their love was lost
and the lovers who met
through a gap in the fence
never got to whisper
their sweet nothings to each other
through a gap in the fence again.
The Siren's Call.The Siren's Call.The Siren's Call.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bright pink lips,
a bikini top.
She gestures wildly,
beckoning every person
to have a dance with her.
Another drink goes down
and I'm pulled into her dance
where hips thrust wildly
and hands roam everywhere.
Yet when lips meet,
it's hollow and broken
sloppy and careless
no spark or real feelings.
I don't walk away
or even pull apart.
Our limbs mesh together more
and even though it's full of sweat
and nothing more than heat
I cannot bring myself to turn away.
This Siren has captured me,
and for the rest of the night
The Caged Birds SongFor the caged birdThe Caged Birds Song2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sings of freedom.
The caged bird sings
to hear his own songs.
For in all the twitters and tweets,
and in the cries and screams,
the caged bird sings
to hear the song of freedom
that it shall never know.
The caged bird has no use for words
or shouts of anger and sobs of terror.
The caged bird only needs its song.
Through bars and glass
the caged bird sings its song
and the caged bird and I,
we sing together,
because we are not free
in mind and soul
but together we are free
Lovely AnneI once met a girl named AnneLovely Anne2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and what a lovely girl was she.
She sat in corners and talked
and talked when no one listened.
While lovely Anne was so lovely
no one went near lovely Anne
and her never-ending talking.
Lovely Anne with black hair
and dark skin. Never listened
to the voice of society.
Lovely Anne talked of a world
so unlike our own.
No one went near her,
but everyone listened
to the thoughts of a wonderful world.
Lovely Anne lived in a world
where the clocks struck thirteen
where everyone loved
where everyone smiled
and tears were never shed.
The walls and floors
objects and papers
that she talked to day and night
held to her words
and wished for her world.
Poor Lovely Anne had no friends.
But lived in a world that was entirely her own.
Lovely Anne who never left her world
and thought reality was imaginary.
MagicA long time ago, when the world was new,Magic2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and longer than anyone can remember
magic existed in the world.
It healed the sick
and didn't cause anything bad.
Magic was for good
and never harmed the people.
Then one day
a sorcerer broken by pain
and an outcast of society
used his magic
to hurt and cause pain.
He killed with his magic,
and made people suffer
in ways that should never be allowed.
The evil sorcerer went across the land
never sparing a soul and making
curses that could never be broken.
Five of the best magicians were shocked
and banded together
to stop his evil reign over the people.
Nothing the good magicians did worked
and they were faced with a final
completely unspeakable action.
The good magicians joined hands,
bound their power together
and used their life force
to stop his ways of evil.
The evil sorcerer fell,
and after that it was decided
that magic should never be used again
in case someone else decided
to use it the way the sorcerer did.
Now because of pain and a bro
DystopiaDirty water,Dystopia2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and broken seams.
Cries in the night
as life becomes a fight
there's just no more light.
Men are trying,
women are running
children are crying
people are dying.
Let's go, he whispered.
I-It's dangerous, she stuttered.
But we can't just stay, they uttered.
Chaos roams the streets
and blood's on the ground like treats.
Dystopia never ends
as society bends.
Life shall be dystopia
and never a utopia.
The Wishing TreeTraveling along a concrete roadThe Wishing Tree2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
until the pavement turned to grass
and the grass turned to dirt.
Just when the land turned barren and bland
an abandoned park stood rusty and proud.
Little Jessica walked along that dirt path
not minding the hot sun
or how her backpack got heavier with every step.
When she finally reached
that abandoned park
Little Jessica played in the slide
and swung on the swings
that creaked with every rock.
She bored soon and left
that barren park
going to the one sign of life
A sorrowful tree, with no leaves left
stood near that abandoned park.
Little Jessica, feet scuffing the dirt
went to this poor alone tree.
From her backpack, Little Jessica
pulled paper upon paper out.
With bits of string and tiny fingers
Little Jessica attached every single strip of paper
to the branches of that leafless tree
as high and far as she could reach
until the dry branches could no longer be seen.
When she was done
Little Jessica surveyed her work,
proud of the job
Dance with the DevilStep into the circleDance with the Devil2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and dance with the Devil
in the song that never ends.
Let him take your pain away,
think of nothing more than this moment
Come dance with him in the circle
and forget all your troubles
they won't matter anymore.
He just asks for that simple price
I'm sure that you already know.
Come dance with the devil darling
he'll take all your woes away.
Swing in the circle
to the beat that never ends.
Once you take that step
and enter the dance with the Devil
you'll never leave it again.
Sell your soul
and dance that eternal dance
Dance with the Devil
to music's soft embrace.
Sing along with the song that never ends
and just give your soul away.
Nothing shall matter anymore
as you dance with the Devil tonight.
Why I cryI like to cry myself to sleep at night.Why I cry2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I cry for my cat who was run over.
I cry for my father who left me.
I cry for the friends I have lost.
And I cry for the bullies who push me in the halls.
I cry for me, myself, and I.
I cry for the body that I don't have.
And I cry because I'm not happy.
I cry for my broken family.
I cry for lost love.
And I cry for the unwanted.
I cry for the people death has taken from me.
Every night my pillow soaks,
gathering the tears that I shed.
By morning they are gone
and no one knows I cried myself to sleep.
Grow UpWhen I was young,Grow Up2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I knew a girl.
She was so warm and bright,
so I asked her that question
that all children must answer.
'What do you want to be
when you grow up?'
Her eyes lit up with joy
and she jumped with excitement.
No, an astronaut!
I'll be famous
and in movies!
will be everywhere!'
She listed so many more
until she finally just smiled
and looked at me with eyes filled
with child-like wonder.
'I could be anything I wanted.'
Years and years later,
I saw the same girl again
but her eyes no longer
lit up with wonder.
I asked her,
'What did you end up being?'
She smiled the hollow smile
that adults have when talking to the young.
'Not what I wanted to be
when I was young.'
Nothing more was said on the matter
but I could see that there was no more wonder
in the eyes that once shone so brightly.
DaddyDaddy,Daddy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
aren't you proud of me?
Haven't I done enough Daddy?
Am I not your little girl?
I'm sorry I'm not perfect,
but can you please come back?
I promise I'll do better.
I promise I can be perfect.
Don't you love me?
Look I drew you a picture,
will you come home now?
Where did you go?
Please come back.
Mommy says you don't care anymore
but I know it's not true.
It can't be true.
You don't even call anymore.
You said you loved me
and that I was your princess,
then why aren't you here?
Please come home.
I want my Daddy back.
Colours I Never TastedIt is not worth escaping over.Colours I Never Tasted2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No, sometimes the sun rises lopsided in the horizon and the
clink of glasses against teeth sets irate neurones off in your mind cavity
and fireflies extinguish on car windscreens in rain storms. Sometimes
August drops down into lake reflections and sometimes October never
sends a breeze to whisper into your ears. But they teach you that all of
that is okay, even when you're watching sunflowers writhe towards the
sun with grey blankets over humid-day hair.
There will always be a dawn. Stay awake for it.
You are not truly living until you have breathed.
And by that, I mean, take two feet and place them on the path
or the grass and inhale April. it doesn't matter if it is not April,
imagine the dandelions and the daffodils and the soft bleat of lambs
and that fresh scent rushing past your nose in long car journeys,
the one that tugs your legs onto the map and tells you 'this is home,
all forty thousand kilometres of it'.
The world is your oyster. Be the pear
No one would miss me...It's the same thing that drives me to suicide nearly every night,No one would miss me...3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
It's the same thing that gives my enemies such evil delight.
It's the same thing that gives my lover such a fright,
It's the same evil thought that I am thinking tonight.
Even you reader, would you miss me if I left?
If I just stopped writing poetry, left this account bereft?
Would anyone, anywhere, miss me if I left?
If I left for good, because with a blade I am deft.
No one would miss me...
No reason to, no one loves me.
No reason to, no one even likes me.
It's just a fact that no one would miss me.
The Envious MoonThe moon's envious glow,The Envious Moon3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is nothing more, than the suns bright rays
shinning back from a gray face.
The loneliest person in the world,
she can only reflect what others disperse
and never show her own light.
Sometimes though, she gets her desires
to change the light she reflects
and becomes orange or red.
It never lasts though.
She finds solace in her reflection
to know that she is actually there,
and to feed what little pride she has.
And the moon sits alone
never to have company.
Only her mournful shriek her only sound.
She can never be the one
who provides light and comfort.
The most she can do
is give off a little reflected light,
that isn't even her own.
Everyone loves the sun,
that warm, life birthing parent.
And everyone ignores,
the pale envious moon.
Who wants nothing more
than to be loved.
UltravioletI want to becomeUltraviolet4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
something that is invisible
even as it burns your skin
I want to trade
the expression on my face
for the sensation of my words
I want to stop being
that is only seen
and never felt
and become something
that is never seen
but always felt
I want you to stop staring
I want you to experience
I want to stop shining
in the colors of a rainbow
I want to burn
with ultraviolet light
You are woman. You are man.You are woman,You are woman. You are man.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so be kind,
all in your own way.
You are man
so be strong,
Green InkShe writes with green inkGreen Ink2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
eternal scrawls upon the page.
She wrote with green ink,
because it was the color of his eyes,
and the pond in the park,
and the seats on the bus,
and the grass outside,
and rose stems.
She wrote with green ink
even when her boss yelled
and the teacher screamed
and nothing worked out.
Because green was her favorite
and it was his favorite as well
even when he was sick while
his skin was green.
He still loved the color green
when the dirt fell down
when he didn’t recover,
the grass that bloomed
was the most angelic jade.
And she still wrote in green ink
because it was the color of the grass,
and his favorite color
and the color of his eyes
on his last final days.
Poetry,She is stardust leaving sweet bonesPoetry,3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in her wake. A trail of poetic destruction
conceived in verse--answering questions
with kisses. There is a hunger in her
freckled constellations, like spider webs
woven together with golden thread.
Like the wild roses she braids in her hair:
She walks backboned and head held high;
the strongest of letters on a page
left to rest in your mouth.
beside me.I wish you were laying here beside me. . .beside me.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Here to feel your warmth, here to give that soft comforting touch that only you can calm me with.
To hear your gentle heart beat from under your soft skin, I couldn't think of anything more soothing.
I want to get captured by your bright loving eyes and get lost in the thought of this moment lasting forever.
As I crave you to be so close, I lay here alone.
On a bed that feels too big, under sheets that seem so cold, heated by nothing more than a shell of a lovesick boy wanting to reconnect all the pieces of our devided hearts.
I wonder if you think of me too.
If you miss me.
If you want me there with you.
Past the tall wicked trees and dark sidewalks,
through the veins of busy roads and under the dull amber street lights.
You're laying in bed sleeping soundly, peacefuly.
I think of you.
I Miss you.
I Want you here.
Though I'll be with you soon.
My eyes are getting heavy and my body is loosening.
Drifting into a sleep